


make me a believer

by palateens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Crush at First Sight, Fluff, Homesickness, Human Scott McCall, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: There’s a guy in Scott’s databases class who sits in the third row toward the middle, next to a tall redhead who’s always sporting a frown and a flannel shirt. Scott kind of...might have the slightest crush on this guy.It’s no big deal.





	make me a believer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katarama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/gifts).



> Listen: Scott McCall and Christopher Chow are two brown dudes from Cali that deserve a whole lot more respect and love, always.

There’s a guy in Scott’s databases class who sits in the third row toward the middle, next to a tall redhead who’s always sporting a frown and a flannel shirt. This guy almost always wears a smile on his face. Except for when he’s elbows deep in lecture notes. That’s when his eyebrows are furrowed and he sticks his tongue out the slightest bit from the right corner of his mouth.

Scott probably shouldn’t know that. But this guy has the nicest smile he’s ever seen, and actually contributes when the professor asks questions. If that isn’t enough to notice someone, he’s always wearing Sharks’ gear. Like the local NHL team back home Sharks.

Scott hopes that means he’s also from California. It would make sense. This guy isn’t as pressed for time or space as a typical New Englander. He’s like a sun beam bursting at his own casual pace…

So maybe Scott kind of...might have the slightest crush on this guy. It’s no big deal. He’s a cute guy and they go to one of the queerest schools in the country, if not world. It could happen. He might have a shot.

During the shopping period at the beginning of the semester, Scott assumed this guy was dating the redhead. Their shoulders were always bumping and the redhead didn’t seem interested in socializing with anyone who wasn’t Shark Guy...He should know what this guy’s name is by now. He doesn’t know what this guy’s actual name is, every time he thinks the redhead (whose name might be Dexter?) is about to say his name, the guy mentions soup.

After their first midterm, Scott tries to sit closer to them. Try being the operative word. Dex (it’s definitely Dex, Scott’s concluded) glares at anyone who tries to sit next to him. Which is ironic considering Shark Guy attracts all types of people to him. It’s hard for Scott to find an opening because someone new is sitting next to Shark Guy every day.

It takes him two weeks, or six class sessions, to realize that his best shot at talking to Shark Guy is through Dex. So he bites the bullet, gets to class early and sits in the spot immediately next to where Dex normally is.

When Shark Guy and Dex get to class, Scott tries to act as casual as possible. He flips through his phone since class hasn’t started yet, and tries to look at his notes from last lecture. He pretends to be so engrossed in his own world that he doesn’t notice Dex staring at him like he’s done something vile. He hears the two of them argue back and forth.

“Don’t be rude,” Shark Guy says.

“I just...what’s the point?” Dex grumbles.

Scott hears Shark Guy sigh before shoving Dex lightly away from him. He takes the seat that Dex normally occupies. Shark Guy is just...sitting next to Scott of his own free will, taking out his laptop as if half the class isn’t starring in mild horror.

Scott privately wishes he could pull out his rescue inhaler right this second, discreetly pull himself together, and not look like a massive nerd. Years of extra conditioning and endurance training made him good enough to maintain a lacrosse scholarship at Samwell. His steroid inhaler helps his lungs get stronger. But there’s times like this, when he thinks Dex could honestly glare him to a burnt crisp, where his rescue inhaler is more of a comfort than anything. It’s a centering mechanism.

When he can’t keep his anxiety under wraps, there’s something tangible to help remind him how to breathe again.   

Scott feels someone nudge his shoulder. He looks up from his phone skittishly, immediately kicking himself for being a nervous wreck around Shark Guy.

 _Focus_ , he chastises himself, _you can do this. Just have a normal conversation with the guy._

“Sorry about my friend,” Shark Guy says with an apologetic grin. “He forgot his manners at home this morning.”

Scott chuckles a little which makes Shark Guy smile brighter. It eases the tension in his shoulders and the dread in the pit of his stomach a bit. He leans further back into his seat, shrugging.

“It’s ok,” Scott says quietly so the rest of the class will move on and get to their fucking seats already. “You don’t...have to apologize for him, you know?”

Shark Guy nods. “He isn’t normally a jerk, and he owes you a real apology. But I wanted you to know it’s just his bullshit and nothing you’ve done.”

“Thanks,” he says, clearing his throat. “I appreciate that...uh, I’m Scott by the way.”

Shark Guy’s eyes glint a little under the florescent lights of the classroom. Scott blinks for a millisecond, and he swears Shark Guy just barely smirks. Like he knows something Scott doesn’t.

He offers Scott a fistbump that he enthusiastically accepts. “I’m Chris, but my friends call me Chowder. You can too, if you want.”

So that’s why they were always talking about soup...or Chris, he guesses. He isn’t sure what’s the story behind the nickname. But the longer he can actually look into Chris’ eyes, the more he sees things he thought were only applicable to himself. There’s a sadness buried underneath Chris’ smile, deep within his eyes that the blinding nature of his wide smile and braces hide. Or maybe it isn’t sadness. More like resignation about his place in everyone else’s lives.

Scott’s been there. He knows what it’s like to never be taken seriously. He doesn’t know a whole lot about Chris except that he brilliant and still gives this class his all. That’s special.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chris,” Scott says finally. “Uh, you’re from California right?”

Chris nods. “Yea, I’m from Santa Teresa.”

“Oh dude, no way,” Scott says. “I’m from Beacon Hills.”   

Chris smiles even brighter. Scott didn’t know that was possible, but he’s thrilled he’s the cause of it. Chris opens his mouth to say something when the professor walks in, announcing the start of class.

Scott catches the way Chris’ face falls slightly. He gets it. Since he’s been here, he’s met maybe one other person from California. They’re a long way from home. He bumps Chris’ shoulder lightly, giving him a slight nod. Chris seems to get the message loud and clear. They can talk later.

 

_/.\\_

 

Dex does apologize after class. It’s a weak apology, Chris’ glare seems to indicate that this isn’t a one time problem. But Scott doesn’t like people getting worked up over him. Even when they’re clearly in the wrong. So he brushes it off, saying it’s all good. Dex nods, excusing himself as he tells Chris he’ll see him later.

Chris frowns as he watches Dex get out of earshot from them. He sags as soon as Dex turns a corner down the opposite end of the hall.

“I’m really sorry about him,” Chris says.

“It’s ok, seriously,” Scott says. “He’s not the friendliest guy and it was nothing personal. I got it.”

Chris opens his mouth to protest, but promptly closes it. He watches Chris scratch the back of his head, blushing slightly. No way, Scott thinks. Is he...as nervous as Scott?

“Do you have a class after this?”

“Nope,” Scott says. “This was my last one of the day.

“Do you...I mean, can I walk you home?”

Scott feels his stomach drop out of body. His cheeks are probably two shades too dark if how hot they are is any indication. He sees Chris about to take it back and panics. He can’t mess this up.

“I would love that,” Scott fumbles through saying.

Chris nods, smiling gently. “Uh, lead the way?”

He now wishes he were still living in the dorms instead of the lacrosse house. They’re only two blocks away from his place as opposed to a long, leisurely walk through the north quad to get to the dorms on the lake quad.

So maybe Scott walks a little slower as they head in that direction. He talks a little quicker because he’s both desperate to make this time count, and enamored the more he learns about Christopher Chow.

They talk about their families and missing their moms' home cooking. They swap a horror story or two about their friends’ shitty drunken escapades. They lament about missing cooler summers and milder winters. About how home is wearing swimsuits nonstop once the water gets warm enough, wasting days on the Santa Cruz boardwalk, and skateboarding into the sunset.

“Everything...feels a little bit darker around here,” Scott admits. “Like, not just how the sun sets sooner here in the winter. It’s just…”

He stops himself, chuckling to cover up his embarrassment. “I’m not making any sense.”

“No, I get it,” Chris assures him. “It’s colder and everything’s fucking red in the fall. People aren’t really nice here, either. It’s not the same.”

“Exactly,” Scott says nudging Chris’ shoulder.

Chris stares at the cracks in the sidewalk underneath them, pursing his lips. Unfortunately, it’s a really nice view, and Scott is trying his hardest to not come off as a loser or a pervert. It’s a hard line to walk when he’s spent the last month pining over a guy who just asked to walk him home like it’s no big deal. It’s the biggest to Scott. It’s incredible, really.

“I thought going here would be like coming home,” Chris says after a few seconds. “I thought...I don’t know. Maybe I’d find some part of myself I lost the last time I lived here. If that makes sense.”

“Totally,” he agrees.

Chris stops walking and turns to Scott. “I’m glad we met. I love my friends, but I’m not really cut out for the northeast.”

“Me neither,” Scott says. “And, thanks. I’m glad we met too. Uh…”

Scott realizes that they’re in front of the hockey house. Which means it’s time to make himself scarce back to the house across the street.

“Well, this is my stop. I should...get going,” Scott says as he hitches a thumb backwards, pointing to the lacrosse house.

Chris’ eyes go wide. “Oh, cool. Uh...this is my stop too.”

He points to the hockey house. Scott’s blood runs cold. Of course the perfect guy is also a hockey player. No wonder he’s friends with a douchebag like Dex. He wonders if Chris really has a choice in the matter, or if he’s friends with that guy because he has to be. Team chemistry is important and all.

In probably every other universe, Scott thinks this would be the end of his brief, but passionate, crush. That he’d tell Chris it was nice meeting him, and then steer clear of him for the rest of their college careers. But he likes Chris; even if it’s just as a friend. He’s the coolest guy Scott has met on this campus. He doesn’t want to let that go just yet.

Scott clears his throat awkwardly. “Do you...can I buy you a coffee? Sometime?”

Chris perks up. “Like a date?”

“Yea,” Scott says a little too loudly, blushing in response. “Or, uh, as a study...type gathering. W-whatever you want. I just...like hanging out with you.”

Chris looks back at the hockey house for a second, biting his lip. Scott braces himself for rejection.

He knows how obnoxious the hockey team is. He knows that if they’re caught by any of Chris’ friends, he may never hear the end of it. They’re not just his friends, either. These are the guys he has to travel, play, and bunk with on a regular basis. They could make his life hell if they found out he was hanging out with someone from the lacrosse team or some dumb shit like that.

That’s probably not a risk worth taking for a guy Chris just met.

“You know what,” Chris says, pulling Scott out of his spiraling thoughts. “I’d love to, are you free right now?”

“Uh yes,” he tries to say casually. His voice sounds frantic to him, but he can’t be bothered right now.

Chris gestures with his head in the direction of Annie’s, offering Scott his hand. Scott blushes harder than he thought was physically possible. He laces his fingers with Chris’ as they talk about the tragic lack of boba on campus.      

All in all, it’s a pretty good day.    

**Author's Note:**

> fic title - lyrics from Give Me Hope by New Politics 
> 
> to one of my favorite people on earth and a really rad woman on her bday. ilysm Kat <333


End file.
